Category Archives: Single Shot Stories

Stories that are not apart of a story chain.

Death Sex Assassin

This week’s challenge was to use one of ten winning lines as a starting point.  This one is actually set on Amon.  I read the line and this was the first thing that popped into my head. A little weird, but I like it.  


Death Sex Assassin

“Truth be told, I’m not sure any of them are actually dead.” He finished up his boring story while massaging my breast. I let out a breathy moan as expected. I don’t know why clients felt the need to impress me. They’d paid the noble house for my services. With Graan it was always the same. ‘I’m an important mercenary, I work for a noble.’ I do too. This is Amon everybody works for a noble, or is one. I didn’t even listen anymore.


The door flew open as a man wearing bland slacks and with long blonde hair stepped inside. His arms swept up as I realized he had a huge rifle. I fell off the bed as the air crackled. Graan grabbed his gun and fired over the bed. He shouted at me. “Don’t worry babe, I’ll protect you.”


I snorted. As if I wanted some half baked, sex addled mercenary to protect me. I scooted my bare ass across the plush carpets now littered with bits of my dresser and bed curtain. My fingers wrapped around a gun hidden behind the dresser. I might be a high price prostitute, but I didn’t expect the house to keep me alive.


Graan popped off a few with a roar. “You won’t get me assassin.”


Ko,” I cursed under my breath. Assassin, unlike the other worlds, isn’t some guy who just kills people. An assassin is an elite operative. For the first time I wished I had been listening to Graan babble on.


“Hey, assassin. I’m not involved in this. Can I go?” I raised my voice as loud as I could manage.


Graan turned and gaped at me. His bright blue eyes a little watery. I valued my life more than our business arrangement.


The assassin chuckled. “Mirsi, you’re the only woman he ever sees. My clients aren’t interested in letting you wander off. You’re suppose to go with me.”


I gritted my teeth. That probably meant torture. I’d already been tortured once for the what I might know about a client. I really didn’t feel like going through it again.


Guns blazed from both sides of the bed. Each one tore up my delicious bedroom. Hot, thick blood drops splashed my whole body. The feeling was familiar, and unwelcome. The copper taste coated the inside of my mouth. Graan’s arm bleed freely dripping all over my ocean blue carpet.


I eyed the emergency button, however the assassin hovered by it. There wasn’t a chance I could get it without getting killed. And, I wasn’t really sure the security would be willing to attack an assassin. I dropped to my belly sliding under the bed. Neither men paid any attention. “Graan, give it up. The family knows you betrayed them.”


The sound of spit came from behind me. “They don’t know ko. I didn’t betray them. I did the job I was paid for.”


“That’s not what I heard from my clients.” Assassin replied with the elegant mix of arrogant disregard. I kept crawling until I could see part of his shoes from under the duster.


“Not my fault the kid was stupid and ran out front. I did my best.” Graan’s voice seemed quaver to me. I wondered if he got the kid killed.


The assassin fired a few shots. My time was short. As they started to fire back and forth I let loose my own shots. A yelp as the assassin was unexpectedly shot in the foot. My aim could use some work.


Even as his body hit the floor he fired under the bed. I rolled out. I still got several in my upper thigh. Not the first time I’d been shot, and it wasn’t any more fun this time around.


Graan leapt over the bed firing down at the assassin. He moved around evading the shots. I jerked up to my feet watching even more blood stain my carpet. I squeezed the trigger as I moved forward. The assassin couldn’t avoid both us. The bullets pounded him, and he let out a shuddering final breathe.


Graan let out a hoot behind me. I turned my gun still clutched in my grip. “What are you so ko’ing happy about?”


“I knew you were faking him out, babe. Now, I can get you out of this house, and we can be together.” His blue eyes beaming at me. He ripped what was left my bed sheets into strips. The strips got tied around his bleeding arm.


Of all the things I’d ever heard, this had to be the dumbest. Did he think we were lovers divided by the cruel house matron? “Graan, I’m not running away with you. I worked hard to get into this house. I can have whatever I want here. And, if I did run the house would chase me till I was dead.”


“I gotta plan, we can go off world. My Nobles wanna kill us, and I spend most of my time off world anyway. I only came here cause the contract was so good.” The big blue eyes locked onto the dead body. “Look how it turned out.”


A terrible, and worrisome thought struck me. “Why do they want to kill us, Graan?”


“Oh, they know about our love. I tell you all my secrets. You probably know more about their organization than they do.” He laughed, as if it was funny.


I limped to the other side of the bed and looked at him. “Sorry, this isn’t going to happen.” I lifted the gun, tugged the trigger, and watched his brains decorate my wall. His body slumped down at my feet. Today was turning out to be familiar in the most unpleasant way.



Filed under Amon, Single Shot Stories, Story Chains, Writing Challenges

The Greatest Discovery

The door flew open covering the bunk, and small table with light. “Craic, get up.” An older man wearing a white stained jumpsuit half shouted while bouncing up and down.

A head lifted from the top bunk. “What is it Phain, I’m sleeping.” It dropped behind the pillow.

“I figured it out. Get up, you must come see it.” Phain shouted back, clasping his hands together.

Craic’s hands pulled on the railing so he half hung over the side. “What are you babbling about?” He rubbed his eyes.

Phain pulled on him with one swift tug. “I’ll show you, get up and come to the lab.” He rushed out the room leaving the door wide open.

“Save me.” Craic muttered as he half tumbled down the bunk. A swift kick made the door slam shut with a bang. A fist bashed into a round glowing button as part of the wall opened to reveal a row of white jumpsuits. He shrugged out of the loose gray wrap he was wearing, and tugged on the jumpsuit. He shoved the door open, and wobbled down the white, brightly lit hallway.

A glass wall showed Phain as well as several others in white jumpsuits standing around one of the gleaming metal tables. The glass doors opened with a whoosh. “Ko, Phain, what did you need to wake me up for in the middle of my sleep.”

His hands jerked back and forth in quick succession. “You have to see it to believe it.”

Craic grumbled his way over stopping next to the table. The top had been turned on the observation screen in each one by one section was a different small furry creature with big ears, and long corkscrew tails. “I’ve seen leikurs before, Phain.” His tone flat, and tinged with anger.

Phain winced. “I know, it’s not the leikurs, sir. It is what I did to them. Click on one of them and read the data. I swear it is worth all the build up.”

“It had better be. I’m the supervisor of this operation. And, considering it’s a secret project you better hope I’m not irritated enough to be rid of you.” Craic snapped. He stretched to his full height as he glared down his nose at the cowering Phain.

Craic grunted in satisfaction and pressed a finger into the one of images. A sheet text file popped up filled with statistical numbers. A brow lifted on his face, and his lips parted a touch. “Are these accurate?”

Phain nodded his eyes still downcast.

Another click, another set of statistics, Craic lips split into a grin. “Have you managed to get this procedure to work on all of these leikurs?”

Phain nodded, this time he lifted his head.

“You have done a miracle, Dr. Phain. You have successfully altered the genetics of these adult creatures with virtually no side effects.” He switched his gaze to the rest of the gathered doctors, and scientists. “Everyone drop your assignments, and work full time on this project. We need to work to get the side effects down to nothing or as close to nothing as we can. And, we need to start acquiring more complex creatures to test on.”

He turned and gave Phain a crushing hug. “Even with what you have here, you have managed to change the world.”

Phain wheezed causing Craic to let him go. “I do worry, sir.”

“Worry about what? It isn’t perfect, but still it amazes me.” Craic eyes lit up, as he stared out past everyone.

Phain bit his lip. “Sir, this invention could be misused. I am glad we can begin to correct the genetic damage done due to the fall, with our gene pool so shrunken we lost a lot of viable genes. But, people might use it to enhance themselves more than necessary. We might create a super class.”

Craic glowered and shook Phain. “Don’t be foolish. The information is going to the government, who is bankrolling us. Are you proposing I do not give them the information?”

“No, no, of course not.” Phain lost all color his skin seemed bleached.

“Then, keep your insane thoughts to yourself. This discovery will only make our world better, not worse.” Craic pronounced his voice thundering.

Phain dropped his head with a nod. His eyes were filled with tears.



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Filed under Amon, Single Shot Stories

The Family Slave

“Momma, I want to go home, I don’t like it here anymore.” A slight young girl with a squashed round nose, with dark hair and eyes, tugged on her mother’s skirt.

The mother knelt down, wrapping her arms around the girl shaking. “You can’t come home with us yet. We need to talk to the Slavery Protection Board. After daddy and I talk to him, you can come home.” Her eyes glistened.

A man shambled up to her into the cold, sterile room. “Meira, we need to talk to SPB, now. They are summoning us.” He pats the head of the little girl. The woman started to sob. “Meira, enough. We have to go.” His tone grew hard.

Meira let go of the girl. She rubbed her eyes, and ran her hands down her pale green dress. “I’m ready.”

The man didn’t respond, and walked out into a hallway.

The woman rushed behind him, her hands wringing. No one spoke until they saw a large metallic, double doors. “Joni, do you think they will let her stay with us?”

The man’s eyes became slits, and his brows flattened. “If you hadn’t been funneling your time, and money to the movement, it wouldn’t be a problem. But, you believe in Gulla’s Blue Rose, our family is only a secondary concern.” He grabbed her shoulders, and gave her a hard shake.

Tears poured down her cheeks. “I gave them money to help our family.” She pushed against him, but he didn’t let go. “Joni every few generations one of us goes to be a slave. I’m tired of it. I want our family to be free.”

A push sent her sprawling on the pristine white tiles. “Ko you, Meira. You’ve destroyed us.” He marched away from her, as the doors clicked, and slowly opened inward.

He stood at the entrance surrounded by black floors, wooden benches, and seven floating wood chairs filled with people, with precise, chiseled faces. Joni tapped his foot, as Meira made it beside him.

Together they strode forward to stand in front of the board. As one they dropped to their knees.

The man who occupied the middle seat, sneered at them. “And, now Meira comes before the SPB, begging for favors, after smearing our reputation.”

Meira lifted her head. “First Chair Bivn. I only make a request that any citizen is allowed to make. Would you not even give me the comfort of family?” Her eyes still wet with tears, but fierce.

“Allowing families to take in relatives who are deemed to be slaves, is not a law, or mentioned anywhere in the SORD handbook. It is a merely a courtesy. You have spent all of your life fighting against the SPB, in addition to undermining the authority of the Nobles.” He pointed a finger at her. “You are a disgrace to Alaget, Citizen Meira.”

She shot up, her nose an inch from the end of his finger. “You are the disgraces. You allow our own race to use, and abuse itself. You sell children to whoever wants them, and condemn them to a life of slavery. You mock the other races, when they call us barbaric. We are savages. I fight for our people.” All her age, and imperfections washed away with the power of her words, the power of her conviction.

First Chair Bivn eyes widened, and he slapped her. She fell back. “You will kneel before your betters, Citizen.”

“I would, if I knew of any. I will not bow for my child. I will do as I was taught.” She smiled, even as the bruise on her face darkened. “Use politics, and underhanded tricks to win. For the Blue Rose!”

As the echo of her shout died, the doors swung open. A woman dressed in a flowing robe with pure white hair walked in. Her eyes were wide, and blue. “Greetings, Slavery Protection Board. I have come here on behalf my ward. I assume that is no trouble for you.”

“Grand Lady Rillian, you are welcome anywhere.” He bowed his head, even though his lips were a straight line.

She let out a giggle. “Oh, surely not, First Chair Bivn. You resent me, and you resented Gulla Valik. However, I recently did purchase the employ of this fine citizen. And, if you are not foolish.” Her face dropped the happy facade, to sneer at him, as she advanced down the pathway. “You will give her the child, and leave them be. Otherwise, I will be forced to be hard on you. I detest brutal methods, but I will employ them if necessary.”

All the other chairs turned to look at First Chair Bivn. He swallowed as the blood drained from his face, and he shook a little. “As you wish, Queen of Amon.”

Grand Lady Rillian snapped two fingers, and Meira and Joni stood up. She swept out, as they followed.

The door closed as Joni fell to his knees. “Thank you for saving my daughter.”

“She is no longer your daughter, Citizen Joni. Citizen Meira is no longer your wife. She will live with me, and you will never see her again.” Her hand shot down, as she hauled the man up. “Do you understand? I exposed myself, in order to prevent this. And, it is your fault it happened. I will not allow you to compromise, my retainer, or my position. Now, go.”

Joni faced Meira he opened his mouth.

Grand Lady Rillian shoved him back. “Don’t speak to her. Don’t apologize. Go.” She shoved him again. “Ko, go!”

He let out a cry, and took off running.

“It is his fault?” Meira asked in a quiet voice.

“Indeed.” Grand Lady Rillian kept her eyes in the direction Joni ran. “He gave evidence about your anti-slavery activities to avoid a charge. He tried to assault an off worlder with citizen status.” Her head twisted around to face Meira. “Our standing in the Intergalactic Council is already weak. He would have made it weaker. Come on, let’s get your daughter.”

Meira ran down the hall, her feet pounding. The door to her daughter’s room flew open. “Sweetheart, come here!”

“Are we going home mama?” The little girl wrapped her arms around her mother’s legs. “No, we are going someplace much better.”


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Filed under Amon, Single Shot Stories

Tradin’ Up

A tall pale man pulled a rickety cart filled with scrap metal. His hand pushed hair out of his gray eyes. A puckered red scar marred his face. Around them was blacken metal beams, crushed stone, and shattered glass shards. His feet crunched on the ground. Another man with an equally full car pulled up beside him. “Do you think it is enough for the Ga’more?”

Pale man gave a half nod. “It is the weight they asked for.”

Milin, they are aliens.” The man swung his arms to the desolation around them. “Aliens did this to us. Why help us?”

Tiyl.” Milin spoke in a soft tone. “Only one alien race bombed us, the Delirr. The other races don’t care about us either way. They are traders, nothing more.”

The cart behind Tiyl came to a stop. “And, why would this useless crap matter to anyone, then?”

Milin waved his fingers forward. “We can walk, and talk, Tiyl.” Both carts began to roll, again. “What we are trading for has little to no value to the Ga’more. It is old technology. No one uses environmental domes anymore.”

“How can they help us, Milin? Won’t they prolong the inevitable, our people are doomed.” Tiyl whole posture fell.

Milin whole body stiffened, his face hardened. “No. We are not doomed. I will not allow us to die. Einlari will survive, Tiyl. We will.” He stared at Tiyl. Tears ran down his cheeks.

“I’m sorry, Milin. It is so hard to hope.”

Milin nodded.

They travelled as the orange sun made steady progress across the sky. The carts jumped up, and down from debris. At a distance a shining silver cylinder landed. “Let’s hurry,” Milin broke into a long stride.

Tiyl took a quick look around him, and followed moving as fast.

In a few moments, Milin made it up to the ship. A wide ramp flanked by four tall, massive, creatures with lavender skin, cerulean dyes, and shaved heads. Heavy metal plates molded to their bulging muscles. Milin dropped to his knees, pieces of glass grinding into his pants.

When Tiyl caught up, he copied the gesture.

Time ticked by, as they both waited, and waited. Finally, another tall creature came out, wearing a flowing black dress. It had black hair stylized in a tall twirled spire. “Greetings Einlari.” The dulcet feminine voice had a touch of scorn.

Milin raised his head. “Greetings Ga’more.” He replied in a steady voice.

“Oh, oh, so rude, when you are begging me for favors.” Her lips tugged into a smile, which did not reach her eyes. “But, I forgive you, because I’m generous soul.”

A quick tilt of Milin’s head, he stood up. “Of course, Veronil, it has always been your best quality.”

She sashayed past him, running a square metal block over the carts. A quiet ding and the block turned blue. She twisted around to look at him. “It seems it is sufficient. And, what did you want to trade, again, I forget.”

Tension flooded Milin’s face. “You know exactly what I wanted, Veronil. Don’t be coy.”

She let out a brittle laugh. “Touchy.”

Her fingers snapped twice. “Bring the environmental dome units, as well the data pad with the technical data.” Two of the burly guards went up the ramp.

An elegant twist of her leg, and she faced Milin. “I was wondering if you would be interested in a further trade.”

“Of what?” His words were clipped.

Without warning Tiyl broke in. “Look you vin, stop jerking our chain.”

Both Milin and Veronil glared at him. He shrunk back, and stared at his feet.

“He is right, though. I do not want to be played with Veronil. I have dealt with you fairly. I have not tried to barter with you more than is polite, manipulate you, or lie to you. Tell me what you want.” His spine straightened, and his chest puffed out.

She pursed her lips. “Oh, fine. You young races are no fun. Your planet is dying. Your ozone is fading. I want to offer you technology to artificially stabilize your ozone. However, the cost is high.”

Milin stared ahead, as thoughts ran back and forth in his mind. He nodded twice to himself. “Alright, what is it?”

“Do you know long ago, Ga’more lost the ability to think intuitively, except for less than one percent of our population? And due to our reputation, we cannot get any races to volunteer for our research. We want Mentals, to research on.” Her gaze stared past both of the Einlari before her.

Milin nostrils flared. “You want to take the most powerful of our people for tests? And, I can’t imagine why people would hesitate to volunteer with a race so brutal, the Intergalactic Council had to be formed to stop its campaigning.”

“True.” Veronil looked Milin in the eye. “Do you think your people will survive, without it? And, I will not take them forever. Perhaps, five years, and we’ll pay a fee for any loss of life. We can negotiate, favorable terms.”

Milin looked at Tiyl. “Fine, I’ll go to negotiate the terms with Ga’more General-Leader.”

Veronil narrowed her eyes. “You lead the Einlari, Milin?”

“Yes, I the surviving First Chair, and I will not let you take the Queen of Amon, from my people.”

“Then, come aboard little Einlari.” She pointed up the ramp.

Milin still looking at Tiyl sighed. “Take the environmental domes with you. Tell them I had to go, it is important. We won’t survive without them. I’ll send more information when I can to Niveri, let the Queen know, I won’t let her down.”

“Sure.” Tiyl responded his eyes red. “I’ll miss you Milin.”

Milin nodded, for the last time, before walking up the ramp.



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Filed under Amon, Single Shot Stories

Chasing the Arcade

Ven sat behind his glossy help desk and sighed. He didn’t want to be at work. That was hardly new. He never wanted to be at work. The computer screen on his left blinked at him. A frown creased his very young and very brown forehead, before he turned away from it. I will not spend the entire day filing paperwork for guests. He declared internally. Instead, he stared out the huge windows in the lobby. The windows themselves were lovely, with heavy, detailed frames, etched designs, surrounded by luxurious chairs, and lavish throw rugs leading up to them.

Ven didn’t care about any of it. His eyes were riveted on the casino across the way. Lucky Lady, it was called, had bright lights, flashing signs, and a slight spin the bloated, floating building. It has been weeks, since I was last in the arcade. He thought his eyes almost in tears. A quick glare over his shoulder, at the manager’s office behind him. The only reason he worked here, was because of the free access pass to the Lucky Lady. Other people worked here for the access to diplomats, artists, and politicians who came in incognito. They thought Ven was stupid, and Ven thought the same of them.

The desk ring went off, and Ven forced himself into a bright, vapid smile. A customer is coming, be nice.

A large bobbing form, in dark brown, a long saggy face moved at a sedate pace to the desk. The single eye on its round face focused on Ven. The words floated on the air in front of it.

Ven managed to stop a groan. A race without vocal cords, great. “Hotel Staff, I need you to place me in my assigned lodgings.”

Once again, grateful, for the translator, Ven gave a serious nod. “Of course, honored guest. I will look up your reservation. May I have your name?”

There was a long pause. “Grixt Giffrit, of Greenita Groas.”

Ven blinked twice. He typed it into the computer, and his dismay at the strange alien turned into panic. Nothing could ruin his day more than, having to fix someone else’s mistake. “I apologize, most honored guest, but we appear to not have a reservation for you.”

The words flashed fast, and furious. “This happens to often. I have heard many complaints about your service. Many of Greentia Groas have claimed bigotry on your race, Einlari. I must have the room I reserved. Unacceptable!” Grixt danced back and forth like a child playing with a ball.

Ven bowed his head, schooling his expression into mournful sadness. He lifted his head. “I assure you, honored guest that is not the case. There are many rooms to keep track of, we are only Einlari. Let I tender my deepest apologies at offending you, and inconveniencing you. If you give me room number, I will see if the room is available.”

“The thousand floor, room two, three, nine, and one.”

A few strokes on the computer revealed the worst news so far. The room was occupied. “I apologize, the room is currently occupied. May I provide you a free upgrade to a room on the twelve hundred floors?”

Grixt jumped higher, his brownish skin turning an olive green. “No! No! No! I must have that room. I cannot stay anywhere else. I will lodge a complaint with the International Office.”

Ven eyes widened, as a jittery pain filled his stomach. He had to admit to not care what happened to Aoi, his home world. However, if Grixt did that, he would be fired, no more arcade. “I will speak to the other guest right away. Won’t you go to the hotel bar, and enjoy free drinks on the house, while I rectify the situation for you.”

A spin sent him to the elevator, as he went to pinged one the other staff to take over the front desk. He banged on the call button over and over. A happy chime signaled the large doors opening. Ven had always hated the elevators. They were shiny, black, and filled with irritating music, the manager called soothing. The ride was short, as he could feel himself floating a bit.

He clambered onto the conveyer to take him to the section where room two thousand, three hundred, and ninety-one was. There were several aliens on it with him. He ignored them, they ignored him. The trip was as fast as the elevator, and he jumped out, making the quick trip to the room. Ven shoved his finger into the communicator button. “I am sorry to bother you, honored guest, but I need to speak with you.”

A minute or two passed before the imprinted metal door swung inward. A reedy voice reached his ears. “Come in.”

In a rush of fast steps, Ven made in to only stop suddenly, and stare. It was one of the few races he recognized. An ancient, powerful race called the Runnil. Tall, with a sparse frame, large antler on its head, with striped brown and red fur. His, as Ven could tell from the antlers, face was long, narrow, with big, round brown eyes. A bit of worry came from behind the awe. Runnil were telepaths, the most powerful anywhere. He didn’t want anyone, walking around in his mind.

“How can I assist you, Einlari?” Runnil language was a quick chain, followed by translation.

Ven took a hard swallow to get rid of the silence. “I came here to beg you a favor. Another guest, Grixt Giffrit, of Greenita Groas, wishes to have this room. There was a mistake with the reservations. I will be more than willing to get a better room, if you would help me by allowing him this room.”

Runnil stepped toward Ven. He felt a light pressure on his mind.

And against all the policy of the hotel, Ven threw up his hands, and shouted, “No.”

The alien stepped back, and gave him a long look. “I merely wanted to understand why it matters so much to you. I can feel the distress leaking out. I am puzzled, because due our earlier interaction, you have a great deal of disdain for the Lucky Lady Hotel. “He seemed to smile, at least as far as Ven could tell. “If you give me an honest answer, I will even act as if it was my idea to change rooms, therefore saving you from any reprimand.”

At first, Ven was angry. Runnil had walked around in his head, and checked around. But, on the other hand, the offer was great. He frowned a bit longer, ran his hand through his hair. “Alright. Truth is I only work here, so I can get into the casino for free. I eat the cheap eats, check out the naked shows, and hit the arcade.”

Runnil let out a long sound which was a cross between, a hoot, and a yelp. “I appreciate your honesty. I will go with you, and resolve this issue.”

The relief hit Ven so hard, he nearly toppled over. He had to smile. I hope the rest of the day isn’t as half as exciting.


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Gulla, The Rebel

A hand snapped over the side of a ventilation shaft. Then, a second one. A grunt was followed up by a young woman up with severe eyes, and brown skin. “Ugh, this hurts.” She mumbled under her breath. With a heave, she pulled herself into the shaft. She leaned up against the wall clutching a dagger shoved into her side. “She told me it would hurt, and she was not lying.”

She dug around in her tall black boots, and pulled out a slim tube. She clicked the back-end showering light onto her side. She chewed on her lip for several hard bites. Her nose twitched once. “I should have asked whether or not I should pull it out. Can I get out with it in me?” She chewed on her lip some more. “I think I can.”

She shoved the flashlight back into her boots, and started to crawl. She sang a quiet song punctuated with a curse word or two. A faint blood trail followed behind her. Each foot scrap, and ding made her wince. “I wish I wasn’t so loud.” Her voice just above a whisper. Several more feet before the tunnel began to lighten. She increased her speed a bit, it got brighter and brighter.

At last, she was facing the outside, her face staring up at the glistening spires, and shooting up from shattered remains of the old city. She let out a holler. She shifted to face downward and grimaced. The drop was several feet high. “Ko.” She cursed in a mild tone.

A loud chink made her jump sideways, and her eyes close as her face paled. She leaned out the tunnel to see a massive hook and rope. A figured climbed up it with skill. The woman smiled when she recognized who it was. “Hey, Amaria.”

“Stuff it, you are late to the rendezvous.” Amaria, looked very young, her face unlined with the round, soft features of someone not quite mature. Her eyes, in contrast, were mature, and far-seeing.

The older woman grunted. “I went on a mission. I didn’t go out to buy a new dress.”

Gulla.” Amaria voice was girlish and high, but there was a hint of danger in it. “You wanted to lead a rebellion, get used to the fact people will worry about where you are. Come on, jump on and let’s go.”

Gulla’s twitched her lips. “I might need help.”

Amaria’s narrowed her eyes. “Why?”

“I got stabbed.”

“You got stabbed?” Amaria’s black brows shot up underneath her massive pile of bangs.

She shot her a sideways grin. “You adorable, when you’re shocked.”

Young girl ignored her, and twisted close to the wall. She grabbed her arm. “This is going to hurt.” She yanked her out of the shaft, and swung her over to the wall.

Gulla let out a cry, which she cut off by biting the inside of her cheek.

Amaria glanced down, and shouted. “You didn’t pull the knife out. What is wrong with you?”

She clung to the rope for several minutes. “I wasn’t sure if it would be better to leave it in or not.”

“Unbelievable.” Amaria shimmied down the rope. Her eyes level with the knife. She pressed one hand against Gulla’s side. “It does not hurt, you feel fine. The wound is not bleeding.” She repeated the phrase over and over a minute. She took her hand off Gulla’s side and placed it on the hilt of the knife. “Hold on to the rope tight.”

Gulla’s eyes were squeezed shut, and she gave a terse nod.

With a quick rip, Amaria pulled the knife out and let it fall. “I can’t believe you. You are genetically superior being, you are not immortal.”

She opened one eye. “I’m young and foolish.” Her face was white with tension, but she managed a smile.

“No need to tell me. I’ll climb under you. I’ll catch you if you slip and fall.”

Gulla twisted so her legs and arms were wrapped around the rope. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, as always, friend.” Amaria moved down the rope her eyes on Gulla as they made a slow pace down to the ground.



Filed under All About Gulla, Amon, Single Shot Stories

Slavery Ownership, Rights, and Duties Government Handbook

Slavery Ownership, Rights, and Duties Government Handbook has been established as required reading by the Slavery Protection Board or SPB, since 2231 Cycle. By owning slaves you are agreeing to follow any new additions in the SORD Handbook. Any laws broken will result in fine, based off percentage of income, to be determined by Slavery Protection Board (SPB).

This handbook is split into three sections. The laws that govern all ownership for all Alaget or Free Citizens, is Governmental Laws. Laws that give owners as rights, is under the Rights section. The final section reviews the duties one has toward the slaves.


  1. No race of the intergalactic council may be raided or used for slaves. This is per the Treaty of Bar-so Gamore.
  2. Slaves may not speak against the Councilors, the Councils in general, the Alaget, or their owners. Punishment of such behavior will be established on a case by case basis by the SPB.
  3. Conquered world is only allowed to be used for slaves for ten generations after which they revert to free citizens
    1. Poor behavior, or non compliance will extend this period.
    2. Any race may be released sooner.
  4. Joining an anti-slavery movement results in death or confinement if a list of Co-conspirators are given.
  5. If a slave passes the mental, physical, and skill qualifiers they will be paid a wage that will free them in twelves years’ time.
    1. Poor performance, inappropriate behavior, or disobedience will increase this time period for each infraction.
  6. If slave has issues with their current assignment, they may petition the SPB for reassignment.
    1. They must continue to perform said duties, however, until the petition is heard and approved.
  7. Slaves are not allowed to secure personal transport.
  8. Slaves are not allowed any mind altering substances, unless it is medically required, and only for the period of injury.
  9. Slaves may not breed without permission.
  10. Slaves may not fight one another outside proper training or fighting grounds.
  11. The slaves cannot be forced to perform a duty, which they are physically unable to do.
    1. Tests are provided before slaves are sold or assigned to determine their abilities, these tests are of mental, and physical nature.


  1. Any intentional harm inflicted by a slave results in execution.
  2. Slaves must follow any and all of owner’s requests regarding work orders, uniforms, employment, and meal times, unless a successful petition is granted by the SPB.
  3. A slave is not allowed to seek a new owner, without current owner’s permission.
    1. A first offense is maiming
    2. Second offense is confinement for a no less than ten days, and no more than twenty.
    3. Third offense is death.
  4. If a slave’s performance is substandard such punishments may be used. Any repeat infraction only counts if within three months of one another.
    1. Minor infraction results in whipping of no more than ten lashes, and two day reduction of food.
    2. Second minor infraction or a moderate one result in a whipping of no more than thirty lashes, and week’s reduction in food.
    3. Third minor, second moderate, or first major infraction results in sixty lashes or until the slaves loses consciousness. In addition, a three week reduction in food.
    4. Other punishments may be applied instead if the proper forms are filed and approved by the SPB.
    5. If there is more infraction, or anything not noted in this law, one may contact the third chair of the SPB for more details on types, and severity of punishments allowed in these special cases.
  5. Slaves are not allowed to train with weapons, without it being the owner’s permission. Failure to comply results in death. 


  1. Slaves must always be informed about the nature of their employment.
  2. Slaves employment duties must be explained to them thoroughly.
  3. Proper equipment must be provided for any duties.
  4. Any injuries must have proper treatment.
  5. If a slave’s death is determined to be the owner’s fault, and not within the dangers of the assignment, the slave family is immediately freed and they become free citizens.
  6. Room and board must be provided to slaves either freely or given money to allow them to purchase it themselves.
  7. If a slave limb or limbs is mutilated at the owners fault, they must repair or replace. If the fault if with the slave, there is no requirement to do so.


Filed under Amon, Single Shot Stories

Vallen’s Freedom

A crack resounded in the air as the pain spread from his spine out, he could feel blood running down his back, and see it dripping to the gravel below him. He sprained against tight leather straps around his wrists but it just caused him to sway back and forth in the air. A chuckle over his shoulder, the Keeper stepped into his view.

Vallen, are you now willing to agree that you are a slave?” Keeper’s fine fingers brushed against Vallen’s cheek.

Vallen jerked his head back. He felt a pressure build up in his stomach, and it lurched out his throat onto the ground. The acrid smell filled his nose.

Keeper took a prim step back. His eyes swept upward from the ground and into his captive’s face. “I take that as a no. I’ll return.” Keeper’s boots crunched and the sound eventually faded.

He was left hanging his back on fire. He had given up everything for Gulla. She had promised him the future. Vallen had covered her escape. He was here, and she was free. He thought she would have come for him.

Cries and yells echoed in his ears. He tipped his head and saw the Keeper. His arm was raised up and down against the exposed back of another person swinging in the air. Splashes of bright red were cast into the air. Vallen jerked his eyes away. He didn’t dare look at the others bound and swinging.

Alerted cries coming from somewhere far away. Guards dressed in heavy thick panels, carrying rifles in their arms ran past him. The ground shuddered as blocks pushed their way out. Guards ducked behind them, guns raised. “Fire at will.” A voice bellowed somewhere behind Vallen.

Dark figures swept over the walls. They moved with fluid grace of the modified.  The sharp crackle of gunfire filled the air. Vallen closed his eyes, he didn’t want to see how many of them fell. A strong, bold voice hollered over the all the sounds of battle. “Careful with your aim, that is our people out there.”

Vallen’s lids snapped open his brown eyes wide. His gaze bounced back and forth at the figures coming over the wall. They rolled, and ducked with ease. Each group of five moved up with speed pausing only long enough to cover the closet unit. The guards screamed as the invaders methodically took them down. Outnumbered by five to one, the guards had no chance. He took no satisfaction in people dying around him. Too many had already died in this war. The pointless war against the Nobles.

Against his will his eyes closed. The pain was just too much. More than anything he wanted to lie down, even though it was filthy. Limbs wrapped around him as the pressure around his wrists loosened. Relief flooded his mind as his arms collapsed at his sides. He tried to move them, but they were too exhausted.

Vallen,” That bold, familiar voice, murmured into his ear. He opened his eyes with aching slowness.

Gulla,” A wetness filled his eyes and spilled down his cheeks. To see her face once more was worth everything. The tawny skin, large sorrowful eyes and the scar that ran down her cheek. She was not a great beauty. It was her inner radiance that made people follow her. To him, this moment, she seemed to glow. He slumped to the side.

He felt himself being jostled back and forth. “Hey, hey, stay with me.”  Her voice was stern as if issuing an order.

He smiled. “Gulla, I thought you weren’t coming back for me. A whole week, I thought I would be here until I died.”

A shift as arms held him close, and he could hear the beat of her heart. Her lips pressed against his ear. “Oh, Vallen. I couldn’t just save you. I had to get them all.”

His voice felt unsteady to him. “Am I going to die, Gulla?”

He felt more than heard her gasp. “I don’t know, Vallen, I am not a doctor. I promise you this, you will die free.”

Pain flared everywhere as he was lifted. Underneath him he could hear the crunch of gravel. Everything went black.



Filed under All About Gulla, Amon, Single Shot Stories